


At This Moment

by Worldmaker



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, LA Law
Genre: Caring, F/M, Parenthood, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worldmaker/pseuds/Worldmaker
Summary: In the aftermath of Graduation Day, Xander discovers that more depends upon him than he thought. A crossover with L.A. Law and Angel.





	1. At This Moment

**XxxxxxX**

_Did you think I could hate you?_  
 _Or raise my hands to you?_  
 _Now come on, you know me too well._  
 _How could I hurt you when darling I love you?_  
 _And you know_  
 _I'd never hurt you._  
 _– **Billy Vera and the Beaters** , “At This Moment”_

**XxxxxxX**

The tires squealed as Rory's borrowed convertible inserted itself in the parking spot. Xander batted the shift into park, and a second later he was following Faith up the stairs to her motel room. Several quick glances over his shoulder revealed nothing behind him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were still being chased. Faith slammed through the door to her room and Xander flowed in right behind her. He slammed the door and locked it behind them.

“You think Demon Mama followed us?” Xander went to the front window and peered out between two blades of the Venetian blinds. Nothing. Everything looked clear. He rushed over to the room's other window. That too looked clear.

“No, we're cool.” Faith was wincing visibly as she took off her leather jacket. “The bitch dislocated my shoulder, though.” She tossed the jacket to the side, obviously being careful not to move her left arm too much. Worried, Xander gave her an appraising look. She responded with a slight 'come here' motion with her head. He approached her, not sure what to do. “Hold me,” she instructed.

Xander looked at Faith, not sure what she wanted. He stepped closer and raised his arms toward her. Before he came into physical contact, she grabbed one of his hands and put it on her injured arm, and the other on her opposite shoulder. Xander nodded slightly, suddenly understanding that she was using him to keep her steady. Faith reached up and grabbed him by his jacket for extra leverage. He kept his eyes locked on hers and watched as she took a few quick breaths. Without warning, Faith pulled her left shoulder back, then just as quickly rammed it forward toward him. There was a loud _**CLICK-SNAP**_ , and Xander shuddered slightly as he felt the arm he was holding vibrate as Faith's shoulder joint fell back into place. Xander let her arm loose and stepped back, watching her. “That's better,” Faith sighed. She rotated her left arm forward and back, pressing it forward and pulling it back.

Faith sniffed the air around him and stepped closer. “She got me really wound up.” Xander jerked his head downward and she ran a hand across his chest. “A fight like that and... no kill... I'm about ready to pop!” She smiled up at him. It was a dangerous and enticing smile. He tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but her hand on his chest was way, way distracting.

“Really?” Xander wasn't sure what she expected, or how he should respond so that she didn't get pissed off. He looked down at her hand again, then back to her face. “Pop?”

Faith's smile widened, showing her incredible dimples. Her voice acquired a low, smoky quality. “You up for it?” Her other hand was suddenly running up and down the back of his neck. How it got there, Xander wouldn't have been able to tell. Suddenly Xander got it. His eyes widened.

“Oh, I'm up!' He nodded. Xander's eyes almost bugged out when the hand that was rubbing his chest was suddenly lowered and he felt her massaging his cock through his jeans. “I'm suddenly _very_ up.” He grinned; it was not a cheerful grin. Rather, it was the grin of someone who knew they were about to go over the big drop on the roller coaster and was simultaneously thrilled and terrified. “It's just, um... I've never been up with people before.”

Faith's grin turned devilish. Xander was about to say something when she grabbed his jaw without warning. Her lips met his, and abruptly her tongue was filling his mouth. She tasted of bubblegum and cherries and cigarette smoke.

“Just relax...” She pushed his jacket from his shoulders, followed swiftly by his shirt. “... and take your pants off.”

He blinked, unable to really believe this was happening. “Those two concepts are antithetical.”

Faith giggled at that, and for a moment he felt relieved that his sense of humor wasn't failing him. She yanked his shirt and jacked down his arms and off, tossing them in the same direction as she earlier tossed her own jacket. Faith was suddenly in his arms, kissing him hard. Xander held her for a long moment while they kissed, feeling her return the embrace. She moved, stepping to his right while staying in his harms, turning them...

Suddenly Xander found himself falling backward. It took him a second to realize that she'd shoved him backward so that he fell onto her bed. His feet stuck out over the side. Faith leapt onto him, driving the air out of his lungs. Xander swore that she was more predatory cat than girl right then. Like a tiger, pouncing on its prey.

“Don't worry.” Faith maneuvered up him, straddling his waist. She sat up and tugged her own shirt over her head, revealing her breasts clad in a see-through black bra. It was a beautiful sight, and it caused him to smile. “I'll steer you around the curves.”

Xander's smile became more than a little apprehensive. “Did I mention that I'm having a very strange night?”

What followed passed like a blur, and in years to come he'd only carry spotty memories of specific events. Sex with Faith was singular, and exciting, and frightening. In some ways, it was draining and painful. In others, it was the greatest physical experience of his life. He surprised himself by lasting longer than three and a half seconds the first time. They had rested, Faith allowing Xander to recuperate, before going again. And again. After the third time, he realized that he had become a dry-firing, fleshy version of a dildo that Faith was using for her own gratification. He was fine with that.

After the fourth time she came, while they cuddled in the afterglow, he began thinking strange thoughts. Thoughts he figured occurred to young men in their prime who'd just had sex with an amazingly beautiful and physically exciting woman. Did it count as having sex only once, since it was continual with only short breaks in between? Or did it count as having sex four times in the space of about an hour because there were short breaks in between?

He was still wondering about it when he found himself abruptly found himself shoved out the motel room's door completely naked, holding his clothes in his arms.

**XxxxxxX**

_One month later..._

 

Faith was bored. Bored, bored, bored. She lay on her bed, not really paying attention to what was playing on the television. She'd thought about going out and killing something, but decided against it. Actually thinking about doing something, anything, brought back visions of the dead guy, and his blood all over her hands. And how he was just there, and she had stabbed him with her stake before she realized... So, she didn't do anything. She kept her mind as blank as possible. She just... didn't. It didn't keep the nightmare images out of her head completely, but it helped.

Faith looked up at the unexpected knock on her door. She rolled off her bed and opened it with a jerk. It was Xander.

“What?” She wasn't in the mood to hear moralizing from Buffy or any of Buffy's friends.

“I just, uh, came by to see how you are, actually.”

_Fucking perfect. Here it came._ “I'm sick of people asking me that, for one thing.” There was a long moment of awkward silence.

He gestured toward her room. “Can I come in? Jut to talk. I promise.”

Faith snorted. “Like you could make something happen if I didn't want it to?”

“Hey, yeah. Got me there.” He nodded, agreeing. She couldn't tell if he was agreeing, or if she scared him. “Pretty much not gonna try to... take you under any circumstances.” The goofball actually held out his arm and pointed to his bicep. “See, here, feel that. Probably like a wet noodle to you, huh?”

For a moment, Faith remembered thinking better things than 'wet noodle' about being held in his arms, but she wasn't about to encourage him. She stepped aside, allowing him into her room. “Five minutes.”

“That's all I need.” He stepped past her. “For talking and conversation. I'm, um, quick as a bunny.” Something else she remembered he hadn't been, the last time he was in the room.

“Clock is running.” Faith closed the door and turned off the TV.

“It’s just, uh... I heard about what happened.” The fear and distress she had been feeling over the death of Alan Finch had returned, accompanied by the anger of being trapped by it, and Buffy's ever-present need to make her feel inferior. “I thought you might need a friend.”

“So then, go talk to Buffy. She's the one who killed a guy.” Faith seethed. She thought Xander might be cool, but he was like everyone else. Getting on her case. Grinding her down. Treating her like trash.

“Yeah, I heard that version.”

_“Version?”_ Faith couldn't keep the anger out of her eyes anymore. She watched him take a deep breath, calming herself, and for just a second, just a small moment, she thought that she might be judging him too harshly, that he really did want to help. But then that feeling was washed away in a flood of guilt and anger and shame. _No, he's not different. He doesn't really want to help. He's like every other guy who ever entered her life._

“Either way, it sounds like it was an accident. That's the important part.”

“No.” She wasn't going to hear this. “The important part is that Buffy is the _accidental..._ ” Faith made air-quotes. “... murderer.” The lie slipped through her lips facilely, but no matter how easily it came to her, she knew it was a lie. She knew she was a murderer. That she was bad. Just like her mom had always told her.

“Faith, you may not think so, but I sort of know you. And I've seen you, post-battle. And I know firsthand that you're, um... like a wild thing. Half the time, you don't know what you're doing.”

“And you're living proof of that, aren't you?” She knew what he was saying was true, but she didn't want to admit it. Instead, she fell back on her usual tactics: when someone attacked, attack right back. Take the offensive, don't admit weakness or wrong-doing, beat the other guy into submission and make them back off. She could see it, though Xander wasn't going along with the game plan.

“See, you're trying to hurt me. But right now, you need someone on your side. What happened wasn't your fault. And I'm willing to testify to that in court if you need me.”

“You'd dig that, wouldn't you?” Since insults weren't working, she switched targets. She was a long-time expert in using her sexuality as a weapon. She threw him a sultry look. “To get up in front of all your geek pals and go on record about how I made you my boy toy for a night?”

_Direct hit._ Xander was obviously thrown by her change in tactics.

“No. N-n-n-n-no, that's not it.”

Faith was confident that she had him by the balls. “I know what this is all about.” She stepped closer to him and ran her fingertips all around his face. “You just came by here 'cause you want another taste, don't you?”

“No!” His denial was shaky. She'd made him unsure of himself, and now he was on the defensive. “I mean, it was nice. It was great. It was kind of a blur. But okay, someday, sure, yeah, but not now. Not like this.”

Time to move in for the kill. “More like how, then? Lights on or off? Kinks or vanilla?”

He jerked himself away from her. His eyes held a sudden fear, and seeing it excited her. “Faith, come on. I came here to help you.” The eyes turned all puppy dog, but the fear was still there. “I thought we had a connection.”

Faith couldn't help but laugh at his gullibility, and when he cringed she exulted in it. She grabbed him by his shirt front and shoved him backwards toward the bed. Once again, she pounced on him, straddled him, over-topped him.

“You wanna feel a connection? It’s just skin.” She tore his shirt open, popping the buttons. “I see... I want... I take...” She bent over him and kissed him hard enough to bruise. It was a mean, spiteful kiss. “I forget.” She began rocking back and forth against him, grinding her pelvis into hers. Her hands were all over his chest and shoulders.

“No.” Yeah, she could almost taste the fear in him now. “No, wait. It was more than that.”

The fear in him was intoxicating. It fueled the anger she needed and wanted to feel so she wouldn't feel the shame of killing a human being. Feel the rage of not being able to control her urge to slay long enough to realize that Alan Finch wasn't a vampire. Feel the self-loathing at knowing that in the end, she was worthless after all.

“I could do anything to you right now, and you want me to. I can make you scream.” She licked his face, then kissed him again. Another spite-filled kiss. She seized his lower lip between her teeth and pulled at it. Faith found herself getting aroused. “I could make you die.” It was almost a whisper.

Faith bent her mouth to his again, but this time, the kiss was surprisingly tender. Her hands went around his neck, and when she pulled her lips from his, he was already choking. She kissed him once more, again tenderly, lovingly almost. Faith rose above him, never once letting up on the choke hold. Xander reached up, attempting to push her away, push her off him, escape. His other hand clawed at his neck, trying to pry her hands off. She ignored his efforts. Both of her hands were tight around his neck, and she squeezed, hard. She watched as the light in his eyes began to dim. He was staring at her, meeting her eyes, and for a moment, what she saw in his eyes terrified her.

Absolutely terrified her.

It was in his eyes. He was beyond fear, beyond worry, beyond shame, beyond her and what she was doing. He had made a choice, somewhere in his head. A choice about her. And it was in his eyes. She was going to kill him, and he knew it. He knew it.

And yet...

Acceptance. Caring. Understanding.

Forgiveness.

In his eyes, as she strangled him to death.

It was enough to cause her to relax her grip. The release came too late to keep Xander's eyes from rolling up into the back of his head. Faith sat up, and just as Xander began gasping for air, she heard a noise behind her. Faith looked over her shoulders to see...

And suddenly everything went black.

**XxxxxxX**

_Two months later..._

 

Richard Wilkins couldn't take his eyes from the still form that lay in the ICU bed. He'd received word that Faith had been brought in only twenty minutes earlier; he'd immediately dropped everything and rushed to the hospital. Over the last couple of months, she'd become his daughter in every way but blood, including a full adoption done with her consent and agreement. His only family left. He loved her beyond his own life, a fact that would have surprised his enemies. Next to him, the doctor was yammering on, making a report of her condition. He didn't look at the man; he was too busy keeping his eyes on Faith. Willing her to be better. Wanting her to get better. Needing her to open her eyes and wake up and be the lovely young woman he knew her to be.

“We had to remove her right kidney. I don't know what she landed on, but when it penetrated it just did too much damage. But the other kidney is perfectly fine and functioning. She can live with just one. Lots of people out there do so every day.” The doctor eyed the distraught-looking Mayor, who still wasn't responding, before continuing his report. “But the head trauma, its... well, it’s simply too severe. We removed several bone fragments from... sir, it’s a miracle she's even alive, what with the blood loss and the...” “I'm sorry, sir. There's almost no chance that she's ever going to regain consciousness.

Wilkins' gaze flowed over the oxygen tube, the multiple IVs, the heart monitor, the electrodes on her chest and her stomach and her arms and her temples, the various tubes and wires and readouts and beepers and other electronic doo-dads. It all looked very scary and imposing. He took in the bandaged sutures on the bald spot shaved into her skull, the bruising on her face and her shoulders, the casts on her arms and legs. Gently, he reached down and looked a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

“It's your day.” He trailed finger lightly along her face, wishing her to be okay.

The doctor sighed. “Sir, there is some good news, though. Sir! The baby is...”

Mayor Wilkins attention snapped immediately to the doctor. “Baby?” He stared at the man. “She's pregnant?”

“Yes sir, about three months now. She hasn't started to show, but that's not uncommon, especially for a first pregnancy. As I was saying, sir, the baby seems fine. We've got a monitor on her and will be tracking the progress of her pregnancy. She'll be well-cared-for, sir. Don't worry. Your daughter is in good hands, and so will your grandchild.”

“Good. Spare no expense. No matter what you need to do, you do it.” The mayor dismissed the doctor, thinking. He'd finished all his preparations. All the spells were cast and the omens found. He would succeed in Ascending and would use the power of Olivkan to rule an earthly empire. But it wouldn't be the same without his Faith by his side. Victory would taste like ashes in his mouth without his little girl there.

He put a gentle hand on her belly, trying to feel the new life that was there. He'd always wanted children, but he and his darling Emma had been barren. He had happily taken Faith in as his own. And now his little girl was going to be a mother. It was wonderful, exhilarating – and terrifying. That thought almost made him laugh. Here he was, on the doorstep of ultimate power, and he was terrified of the future. What if Faith didn't make it? What if the baby... Worse, what if he didn't make it? What if... what if somehow the Summers girl found a way to put a stop to him? He had no illusions at all that losing to the Slayer would entail his death. That's why they called her Slayer, after all. Without him here to protect her, Faith would be a sitting duck. He had no illusions about what would happen to a comatose Faith left alone to the mercies of the Slayer and her friends. Faith's child would disappear into the uncaring foster care system, and Faith would rot, uncared-for and alone, in a long-term care facility.

If only there was a way...

A slow, easy smile crept onto his face as he realized that there was, in fact, a way. The Mayor stepped into the corridor and pulled his cell phone, blatantly ignoring the signs forbidding such devices. Several of the hospital staff gave him dirty looks, but they knew well enough to bother him. He punched in a number from memory and waited as it rang. He didn't have long to wait.

“Holland? Dick Wilkins here. Yes, I know what time it is, Holland, but I promise, I wouldn't be calling this late if it wasn't important. Tell Catherine I'm sorry for waking her.” He nodded and smiled as if the person on the other side of the phone could see him. “I'll make it up to the two of you, I promise. Yes.” He nodded again. “Well, the reason I'm calling is because I need you to send one of your people up here and I need them here within an hour. I need to make some changes to my will, and I need to set up some powers of attorney, and... oh, what do you call those darn things... medical proxies, I think. Yes, exactly, so someone can make medical... no, not for me, for my daughter. Faith, yes. No, Holland, I don't think they can wait. I don't think they can wait at all. They can't. No, they can't Holland. Today's going to be a world-changer for me, and I might not have the opportunity to... right. I don't care. Either would be fine, Holland. Okay. Okay. Good, good.” The Mayor listened for a moment, then grinned again. “That's fine. I'll be looking forward to Ms. Morgan's visit. Ciao!”

He returned to Faith's bedside and took one of her hands in his own. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. Even if they win, you'll be taken care of. I'm going to make sure of it.” He stood there, holding her hand, willing her to get better, despite knowing that he had better things to do.

Eventually his reverie was disrupted by a voice from the corridor. It was one of the nurses, speaking to the doctor who'd briefed him.

“We have another girl with severe blood loss. Doctor Pal wants you to prep this on a...”

Wilkins saw red. He knew who that other girl must be. Barely able to contain his rage, he strode from Faith's room with a purpose.

**XxxxxxX**

_Four Days Later..._

 

Xander dropped his duffle bag into the trunk of the car, shoving it in next to the gym bag that held his anti-vampire supplies and the car's spare tire. He was just about ready to see America. The care was all gassed up, all lubed up, and all packed up. All he had left in the house for his trip was his snack bag filled with Twinkies, Tornado bars, and beef jerky, plus the clothes he'd be wearing. Everything else was in the car. This time next week, he'd be in Texas. Or maybe Kansas. One of the -as states for sure. Xander was looking forward to it. While the rest of the gang went on to become thriving, successful college students, he'd be a student of the road, learning what life could teach him. He'd be back, eventually. He couldn't just turn his back on Buffy and Willow; but he understood that everyone's lives were going in different directions. Or at least, his life was moving away from Buffy and Willow. There'd be enough time to contemplate his future when he was on the road. Not now. The rest of the day was going to be all about spending time with his friends for one last day before heading out of town for the great American frontier. Xander turned back toward the house; he'd drop his keys off on his dresser, then foot it over to Willow's place.

He grabbed the mail from the slot box by the side of the door. Most looked like credit card advertisements, along with a smattering of recipe card subscriptions his mom loved; couldn't cook worth beans, but loved her recipes. A letter to his mom from his Aunt Carla up in Arcadia, a recruitment ad from the Marine Corps addressed to him, asking if he'd thought about his future now that he was a High School graduate. The usual collection of trash mail. He shook his head and the credit card spam. “Who in their right mind would want anyone in this house to have a credit card?” he asked rhetorically.

“Excuse me... I'm looking for Alexander L. Harris. I was told he lives here?” Xander's head jerked up to see a severe-looking woman approaching. She was dressed in a Sunnydale County deputy's uniform, which was odd because for the most part the County cops avoided Sunnydale like the plague. Despite the city being the County Seat, the county cops were headquartered in Lompoc, fifty miles up the coast.

“Sure, I'm him. He's me, I mean. I'm Alexander Harris.”

“Here you go.” The female deputy smiled at him and held out a thick envelop. He could see his name written on it in a fine, looping script. The moment it was in his hands she said, “You've been served. Have a good day, Mr. Harris.” He was so stunned that he never noticed her walking away.

“What the hell?” He opened the envelope; inside it there was two court document. Xander skimmed the first of the court documents, since it was the just a single page. It was a summons. He was being summoned to appear, along with his attorney – he didn't have an attorney but was suddenly thinking he might need one – at an emergency conference with a judge and a bunch of lawyers at the hospital in four days.

He looked over the second document. It was about Faith, he knew that much, but the rest didn't make much sense to him. He only had a vague idea what a power-of-attorney was, and had no idea at all what a medical proxy was and he had no idea why such terms would apply to him. Especially when you factored Faith into the mix. And what the hell did 'custodial status' mean? Custody of what?

“Four days. I'm supposed to start my road trip tomorrow, and some judge wants to talk to me in four days. Crap. Time to talk to Giles.”

**XxxxxxX**

“Mister Harris, Mister Giles, Miss Van Owen, thank you for coming. I'm David Hotchner.” The judge shook everyone's hands. “This is Lilah Morgan, attorney-of-record for Faith Wilkins and for her father, the late Richard Wilkins.”

It had taken Giles nearly five hours to find Grace Van Owen; she was the first attorney he contacted who was willing to represent Xander on such short notice, and to meet with them over the weekend before the conference with the judge. He was paying her bills, because there was no way the boy could afford her services on his own. Giles had a sneaking suspicion about what this was all about; he wasn't a lawyer, but he was educated enough to gain the gist of it. He hoped that he was wrong, but he somehow suspected that he wouldn't be.

“Her father? Mayor Wilkins was her father?” Xander looked confused. “I thought she was from Boston? Didn't she say she was from Boston, Giles?”

“Yes. All the information I have about her says she was from Boston. Her last name is Lehane, not Wilkins. Her mother was Bridget Lehane; her father is unknown. Given that her mother was a prostitute, most likely he was one of her, uh, clients.” Giles stated, flatly. “She was taken into foster care by Dr. Diana Dormer, a historian at Harvard University. Doctor Dormer was later murdered by a serial killer, which was the reason why Faith fled to Sunnydale.”

“All true. Mayor Wilkins formally adopted Miss Wilkins two months before he died. According to the records of the adoption hearing, Faith was happy to have a new father in his life.” The other lawyer, Lilah Morgan said.

“Oh.” Xander looked at Giles. “We, uh, we didn't know.”

“That's quite alright, Mr. Harris.” The judge shifted some papers on the table in front of him, then turned to the court reporter. “Go ahead, Mary. Let me know when you're ready.” After a minute, the young woman nodded and the judge continued. “Okay then. Let the record show that I am David Hotchner, Civil Court Judge for the Central Family Law Judgment Unit of the Los Angeles Superior Court. With me today are Lilah Morgan, attorney for Faith Wilkins, Grace Van Owen, attorney for Alexander Harris, Mr. Harris himself, and uh, Mr. Rupert Giles, who is here as... Hell, what would you call it, Mr. Giles? Moral support? Guidance?”

“I'm here at Xander's request.” Giles responded. “He...”

“He's my mentor. Closest thing I've ever had to a real father. I want him here.”

“Fine. I can deal with that. And Mister Rupert Giles, friend and associate of Mr. Harris. Everybody here knows that this is a legal proceeding and the usual penalties for perjury apply and all that. So...” The judge cleared his throat. “Now, Mister Harris, I want to personally apologize for the speed with which this session was called. Normally these sorts of things would be handled over a matter of months, but because of the specific circumstances being what they are, well, we just don't have that kind of time. I'm sorry if this caught you unawares.”

He turned to Lilah Morgan and nodded. She, in turn, produced a small packet of papers. “Mr. Harris, the late Mayor Richard Wilkins III left behind a rather detailed set of instructions regarding the care of his daughter, Faith, who as I presume you know is currently in a coma.” She looked to Xander for confirmation, and at his nod continued. “Her father, Mayor Wilkins, filed papers before his death indicating that you, as the father of Faith Wilkins' as-yet unborn child, would be the logical person to assume his power-of-attorney authority, as well as his authority as medical proxy for Faith.”

Xander heard everything, but his brain stopped at the phrase _father of Faith Wilkins' as-yet unborn child._ “I'm the what now?” _Faith was pregnant?_ He thought to himself. _Why didn't she ever tell me?_ To his shame, he immediately came up with an answer: _because she saw me as someone who was only out to hurt and use her._

“You mean she didn't... you didn't know?” Both Morgan and the judge looked truly surprised.

“She never told me. I never knew.” He glanced at Giles, who shook his head. “I, uh... we were sort of not getting along. We fought. Argued, I mean, about, uh, the nature of our relationship. It didn't... I didn't want... I dunno. I just don't know. I think I might have, uh, I mean our fight might have, uh contributed to her... uh... I mean, the last time I spoke to her, it wasn't... um... we sort of had a, uh...”

“It’s all right, Mr. Harris. The fact that she attempted suicide by jumping from her apartment window is a matter of record, and it’s clear from the note she left behind that while she jumped because she was depressed and lonely, you can't blame yourself because you had no idea what would happen. Obviously, she cared about you a great deal, if breaking up with you caused so much misery for her.” Lilah Morgan met his eyes, and an understanding passed between the mayor's attorney and Xander. No mention would be made of the fact that Buffy Summers was in Faith's apartment, trying to kill the girl, and in return no mention would ever be made of Faith's criminal activities. And as a rancid cherry on top of an unpleasant sundae, Morgan got to make a bunch of digs at Xander being the cause of Faith's “suicide attempt.”

 

_Can I live with that? Can I live with taking the blame for Faith's being injured, if it meant that Buffy walks free? Even if it meant that Faith is never held accountable for her actions? Can I stomach that?_ Xander was surprised to find that he could. He looked to Giles, who nodded just enough to signal that he, too, understood.

“We're sorry you're hearing it from us, first. We thought you'd be aware. The way Mr. Wilkins spoke about you when he altered his will made us believe that you were still in an active relationship with his daughter. That you were aware of your responsibility to Faith and her baby.” Morgan paused. “Are you going to have a problem caring for either of them, given the state of your relationship with Faith Wilkins the last time you talked to her?”

“No.” His voice was steady, if weak-sounding. “No, it’s not going to be a problem. Is – is the baby okay?”

“According to the obstetrician, the baby is fine.” Lilah passed him a photograph. It was a sonogram photo; he recognized them from seeing them on TV. It was mostly just gray static, but in the middle was a definite head, and arms. It was a baby. His baby. His and Faith's. “You can keep that, by the way.”

Xander passed the photo on to Giles. The older man stared at it before handing it back. “Excuse me, but how, exactly, do you know that Xander is the father?”

“Faith told Mr. Wilkins that she hadn't been with anyone but Mr. Harris. Of course, that's hearsay, and thus not evidence, so we had a comparative DNA analysis done. A prenatal paternity test. There's a 97% match. You're the baby's father.” Morgan produced another document. It looked scientific and medical and complicated. Xander glanced at it, tried to figure it out, and passed it to Van Owen and Giles.

“We'll have to have our own comparative test run...” Van Owen began.

“No. It's mine. I'm not going to contest being the father.” Xander shook his head. “I got a question, though. A DNA test mean you got my DNA from somewhere? Where did you get my DNA?”

“Sunnydale Memorial has your DNA sequence on record. Standard in child abuse cases.” Lila Morgan shrugged at him.

“But... but I didn't give you permission to access my medical records. Don't you need my permission?”

“We subpoenaed your records.” This time Lilah Morgan smirked.

“Without notifying me?” Xander looked to the judge.

“He has a point, Ms. Morgan.” The judge arched an eyebrow. “Accessing his medical record, even with a subpoena, without notification is a violation of Mr. Harris's rights.”

“We apologize, Your Honor. In the interest of expediency...”

“Uh-huh. And when was this test run?” The judge didn't look like he was buying it.

“The same day the gas main beneath Sunnydale High exploded, killing Mayor Wilkins. We felt that it would be faster, and thus better for Faith and her baby, if paternity...”

“Yes, I get it. I'm sure Miss Van Owen and her client get it to. And I'm sure that when the time comes, the settlement you offer Mr. Harris for damages because of your violation of his rights will be quite generous.” The judge leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “Mr. Harris, it’s my advice to you and your counsel that you hold off on any lawsuits until this particular issue is completed. Let's move on.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Lilah looked appropriately chastised, but it only felt skin deep. She pulled a document from a file and put X's at certain points, including a signature and date line at the bottom. “Mr. Harris, if you'll initial here, here, and here, and sign and date here...” she handed the document over to Van Owen, who gave it a quick scan. “... this will confirm your assumption of Miss Wilkins' power-of-attorney. This one...” a second document was pulled and X'd. “... gives you Miss Wilkins' medical proxy. This one...” a third document. “... grants you access to the trust fund that Mr. Wilkins established to cover Miss Wilkins' needs, such as her medical care and her eventual education. Just so you are aware, it’s an interest-bearing account and won't be running out of money any time soon.”

“Okay, what am I doing?” Xander's question caused Lilah Morgan to pause, two more documents in her hand. She looked at the judge, who looked at Van Owen.

“You're assuming responsibility for the care of Faith Wilkins, Mr. Harris.” The judge explained, patiently. “It was the wish of her late father than you assume his position as her caretaker, since you're the father of her child.”

Xander stared at the documents. “Are there any traps in here?” he asked his attorney. “I'm not signing away my soul, am I?” He was looking right at Lilah Morgan when he said this. The judge and Van Owen both laughed, thinking he was kidding. Giles had warned him about Wolfram and Hart, though.

“Not that I can see. They're all straight-forward. You're going to be able to make medical decisions for Faith Wilkins, and to care for her you're being allowed to access her money to pay for it. And the care of the baby, as well.”

“Yeah, the baby. Wow.” He still hadn't figured out what he was going to do about the baby. The thought that he was going to be a dad had hit him in between the eyes and was the primary reason why he wasn't fighting anything. Faith hadn't had the baby yet, which meant he had to take care of her, and if taking care of her for the rest of however long she'd survive in a coma was the price of having a son or daughter, he'd pay it. “What's the deal with the baby, anyway? Is she... is Faith... she's in a coma, how does that work?”

“Mr. Harris, I do have two more documents I need you to sign.” Morgan held the papers up.

“Right, sorry. Okay. Um. Hit me.”

Morgan smirked again. “This one is acknowledgment of paternity and acceptance of full custody for the child.” He signed it. “This last is a special codicil to Richard Wilkins' Last Will and Testament. It specifies that, should you accept power-of-attorney and medical proxy, not to mention custody of Mr. Wilkins' grandchild, he was bequeathing you the remainder of his estate, including all funds and properties not already disposed of by his will.”

“He's leaving me his estate?” Xander was confused. Why would the mayor do that?

“The overwhelming majority of his estate was liquefied and put into trust for Faith's care. Should the odds fall in her favor and she wakes up, she'll receive the remainder after her medical bills are paid as a trust until her eighteenth birthday. What the mayor left you was his house in Sunnydale and cash in the amount of $4.25 million. He wanted you and his grandchild to have a good life.”

“Four and a quarter million? And a house?” Xander looked pale, suddenly.

Lilah Morgan nodded. “The Mayor was a rather wealthy man. In his will, he stated that his grandchild was going to have a full and happy life, and to that end he left you the money so you could take of him... or her... to your fullest ability along with the child's mother.”

“Right. Um... Your Honor, could we, uh... could we take a break?” Xander asked. “I need a drink of water. Maybe visit the restroom.”

“Certainly. We're almost done here, anyway. Let's adjourn for ten minutes, stretch our legs, and so on.” The judge stood, nodded to everyone, and exited. Giles and Xander followed with Miss Van Owen, while Lilah Morgan stayed where she was.

The three of them stopped next to the water fountain. Xander got a quick drink, then turned to Giles, outraged. “Can you believe this?”

“Actually, yes, I can believe it. This entire scheme is ingenious in its subtlety.” Giles began cleaning his glasses. “What better way to tame an enemy than to force him into being an ally by playing on his better nature.”

“What are the two of you talking about?” Van Owen asked. “What do you mean when you say 'enemies'? Is there something going on I should be aware of?”

Xander and Giles shared a look. “Miss Van Owen, the late Mayor of Sunnydale was, in a word, corrupt. It would not be out of line to describe him as a crime lord.”

Xander picked up on it. “Yeah, he was a regular Vito Corleone. If you look into Sunnydale's crime statistics, you're gonna find all kinds of violent crime happening all over the place. Lots of other crime, too. And the Mayor was right in the middle of it, sitting there like a big evil spider on a big evil web. He coordinated the various street gangs active in Sunnydale and effectively turned them into a criminal army.”

“And Faith...” Van Owen prompted.

“Faith was... let's say she was lured into criminal activity by a very charismatic, very evil man who manipulated the tragic nature of her background for his own ends.” Giles held up a hand. “I'm not saying that he didn't honestly care for Faith. There's every evidence that he did, despite being a criminal mastermind. But the fact is, she was lured away and fell in with him, and he used her to perform certain tasks he needed done. Criminal tasks. She was eventually one of his lieutenants.”

“And your involvement in all this?” Van Owen took the two men in, immediately aware that they were not telling her everything. She looked at them sharply. “Enemies. Mr. Harris, are you in one of the gangs?

“No. Absolutely not.” Giles was angry at the implication. “We are both a part of a, uh, neighborhood watch group. One of those 'take back the night' initiatives, where young people patrol the town in groups, to discourage criminal activity. Xander here is one of the leaders of the effort. He's an honest and upright young man who I would be proud to call my own son.”

“So, what happened?” She turned to Xander.

“There was an accident. Someone got hurt, and it was Faith who did the hurting. It wasn’t her fault at all, but she thought we were going to turn her over to the cops. She was scared and she ran. The Mayor took her in. He took care of her, and told her she was special. You know, played to her insecurities.” Giles explained. “It was a masterful piece of brainwashing on his part.”

“She was on the ragged edge before that, though. She didn't have a very nice childhood, and her foster mom was murdered in front of her.” Xander shrugged. “I cared... I care... for her. Sure, she did some bad things, but... yeah. I just didn't expect any of _this_ to happen. Damn it.” Xander covered his face with his palms. His next words came out in a whisper. “Fine. Fine. It doesn't matter.” His next words were so soft that Van Owen and Giles almost didn't hear them. “I'm still gonna taking care of you, Faith. I'm still helping you. I told you I'd be there for you, and I'm going to be there.”

Van Owen cleared her throat to get Xander's attention. “I have a question, Mr. Harris. If Faith is a criminal, why is no one talking about it? You could avoid all of _this_ as you call it, just by bringing up the fact that...”

“No. I'm not going to do that, and neither are you. She's in a coma. She's already being punished for what she did wrong.” Xander's eyes got hard. “It’s time to start forgiving, so I'm taking the first step and forgiving her.” He nodded toward Giles. “I don't care what you or Willow or Buffy do, but I'm forgiving her. I'm taking that step.”

He swallowed, forcing down his emotions. “And I want to make it clear, Giles. Crystal clear. I want all of you, all my... my family... to be a part of this kid's life. I want him or her to know their Grampa Rupert and their Aunt Buffy and their Aunt Willow, but I swear to Jesus Christ himself that the moment one of you says an unkind word to this baby about its mommy, you'll be out of my life in a fucking heartbeat.” Xander wiped at his eyes. “Faith's going to have my kid, and I'm not going to poison a baby against its mommy. I know first-hand how shitty it is to be a kid caught between your folks, with them each telling you what an asshole the other one is. I'm not playing that game. I'm not letting anyone play that game.”

“Xander, that may well be the most mature thing I've ever heard you say. I'm proud of you for it.” He straightened. “Which means I'll just have to endeavor to match it. If you need help with anything, anything at all, ask and I'll try.”

“Thanks. Let's, uh, let's just get this done. I want to go home. There's a lot I need to do.”

**XxxxxxX**


	2. In My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Graduation Day, Xander discovers that more depends upon him than he thought. A crossover with L.A. Law and Angel.

**XxxxxxX**

_But of all these friends and lovers,_  
 _There is no one compares with you_  
 _And these memories lose their meaning_  
 _When I think of love as something new_  
 _Though I know I'll never lose affection_  
 _For people and things that went before_  
 _I know I'll often stop and think about them_  
 _In my life, I love you more._  
– **The Beatles,** “In My Life”

**XxxxxxX**

_Faith took the plate Buffy was handing her and wiped at it with her dish cloth. When the plate was dry, she stacked it in the cupboard with the others. Without really thinking about it, she took the next from Buffy. Soon, it too was stacked in the cupboard._

_“I never thought you'd have this many dishes. You're not exactly the domestic type, you know.” Buffy said casually as she began washing another plate._

_“I learned it from your Mom. I really was paying attention.”_

_Buffy grinned. “Yeah, well, you're going to need it.” Buffy grinned as the cat jumped up on the counter separating the small kitchen from the rest of the house. The animal began to purr as it rubbed its head against Faith's back. Buffy nodded toward the cat. “House guests have the strangest effect on people. You got a name for it, yet?”_

_“No, not yet. I haven't looked at its collar.” Faith turned her back to the cabinet and scanned the rest of the apartment. “Hey... wasn't all this stuff packed up?”_

_Buffy shrugged. “Yeah, but I don't need it anymore, so I'm giving it back to you. Don't worry, I'm sure someone will help you get moved in.”_

_Faith nodded and turned back to the dishes. As she put the last plate on the stack, she noticed that it hadn't got any taller. She turned to her companion, who was drying her hands. “Hey, B. Tell me something. Why are we always doing housework when we have these little talks?”_

_“Come on, Faith... this is a dream. It’s all symbolic. You know, Jungian this and Freudian that and cigars that really are cigars. You'll figure it out...”_

**XxxxxxX**

Xander was still fumbling with the house keys when the door in front of him abruptly opened. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the older woman who'd unexpectedly opened the door.

 _You're staring like an idiot. Say something!_ The thought was automatic. “Uh... hi!” he finally managed to get out. “Um. I didn't think --”

The woman returned his stare. “May I help you?” She had a slight Spanish lilt to his voice, and was wearing a light blue uniform that Xander's mind finally identified as one of the common variations on the basic black maid's uniform, worn by domestics across the country.

“Uh, yeah. Hi!” _You already said that, Xander._ “I'm, uh, Xander Harris.” He held up the keys. “I guess, uh, this is my house now. I inherited it from --”

“Oh yes! Mister Harris! Yes, the lawyer lady said you would be here today. Come in! Come in!” The woman stepped back and gestured him inside. A bit kindlier and a lot more sheepishly than she had answered the door, the maid continued. “The lawyer-lady said that until you make a decision about us still working here, we should just keep working. My name is Sofia, I am the maid. I was just dusting the library.” The woman smiled widely at Xander, and he noted it was a friendly smile, though there was something wrong with the woman's teeth.

“Ah. Okay, sure. Um.” No one had told him that the mayor had a domestic staff, but when he thought about it made sense. “Well, let me meet everybody, but I, uh, I guess that wouldn't be too bad. If none of you are evil, right?” He gave the woman a nervous chuckle.

“Oh no, Mister Harris. We're not evil here. No evil. Not anymore. I mean, yes, Mister Wilkins, he was evil, but he's gone now. Come on, I'll take you back to meet Valentina and Rosa. Valentina is the cook, though since Mister Wilkins died she's just been cooking for us. Oh, and Rosa is new. She is the nurse the lawyer-lady hired to take care of Miss Faith. So sad, what happened to Miss Faith.”

The maid had just started down the hallway, but suddenly stopped. “You are the boy who got Miss Faith in the family way, yes? You better be a good boy. Take care of your responsibilities. Miss Faith, she was good to us, before.” The woman gave him a semi-hostile look, and Xander suddenly realized that the statement about his responsibilities was a question.

“Uh, yeah. I'm here to look after faith, and to take care of our baby once its born.” He tried to put as much sincerity and determination into his words as possible.

Sofia stared at him a moment before smiling. “Good. I am glad to hear that there are still good, honorable men in this world.” Again, she smiled, and again it struck Xander as slightly strange-looking. As he followed the maid down the hallway toward the back of the house, he glanced to the side where a clean, desperately appointed living room sat empty. It was clear no one came into unnecessarily. Next to the living room was a set of stairs leading to a loft he could barely see.

The entire house looked more like a museum than a place people lived. He couldn't remember his parents’ house being this clean ever. In fact, the state the house was in made him nervous. He just wasn't that organized and if he lived here in the – _HOLY JESUS HER TEETH WERE POINTED LIKE A FREAKING PIRANHA'S!_

Xander stopped in his tracks and stared at the back of Sofia's head.

Sofia must have heard him come to an abrupt halt. She turned around and smiled nervously. “Is there something wrong, Mister Harris?”

“Uh. Um.” He looked at her and really looked this time. The woman's eyes were a golden red in color, and her mouth was just a bit too wide. But otherwise, she looked like any random Hispanic maid you might find working anywhere in California. “You're – Oh God, please don't kill me – you're a demon, aren't you?”

The maid let out the breath she'd been holding and again smiled sheepishly. “Oh, that. Well, not totally. My grandfather, he was Respik, and you know mi madre she was a half, so I'm just a quarter Respik.” Sofia shrugged. “Was it my thumbs? Did my thumbs give it away?” The woman held up a hand and spread her fingers. It took Xander a moment to realize her thumbs were on the outside edge of her hand, away from her body, rather than on the inside edge like a human being's would be.

“Uh, no... it was your teeth.”

Sofia nodded. “Yes, that happens sometimes. People, they look at our teeth and think we are cannibals or something. Respiks are fish-eaters, so we have fish-eating teeth.” The maid playfully snapped said teeth together with an audible 'clack'. “Good for picking meat from small bones. Do not worry, Mister Xander. We're harmless. And all three of us, we think this is a good thing, what you do.”

“Three of you?”

“Yes, Mister Xander. All three of us are Respiks.” She smiled and nodded, then turned to the door. “So, let's go meet Valentina and Rosa.” She turned like nothing had happened and continued down the hall.

Xander shook his head, but he followed her.

The kitchen was bigger than he thought it was. Of course, he was basing it on the confined space that was his parents' kitchen. On the contrary, this room was wide-open, with lots of counter-space and wide windows that let in plenty of sunlight. It was decorated in cheerful yellows and tans, and seemed to have all the latest gizmos and tools might want. At one of the counters, a young lady in a white chef's coat was busily chopping carrots into circles on a white plastic cutting board. A large saucepan, in which something golden brown was simmering, was on the stove next to her.

When Xander walked in with Sofia, the chef stopped, waiting for someone to say something.

“Uh. Smells good!” Xander said, not sure where to begin. “So, uh, what are you making?” He leaned over the back of the stove to peer into the pot. It contained several different types of chopped vegetables that were seething in some sort of oil. “You making soup?”

“It’s a seafood chowder.” The chef, Valentina, turned to him as she finished and smiled. Like Sofia, she had the needle teeth and odd-sided thumbs of a Respik demon. “Nice to meet you.” The chef held out a plastic-gloved hand in a fist. Xander wondered for a moment, then got it. “So, uh, fist-bump instead of shaking. Keeps your gloves clean?”

“Every little bit helps, sir. Nice to meet you. We can talk later about any preferences for dinner you have. Also, I'm going to need to know if you have any food allergies. And should I call you Xander or Mister Harris?”

“Yeah. Beets. I'm allergic to beets.” Xander took another look at the soup, picturing it completed. “I mean, like, full-bore death allergy to beets. Even touching beets; it acts like I've touched poison ivy. And just call me Xander.”

“Okay,” the chef smiled. “Good. Xander it is. So – “ she pointed at the sauce pot. “It’s going to have salmon and shrimp and clams in it. Is that okay?”

“Oh yeah. That sounds really, really good.” Xander smiled at the girl. “Your name was Valentina?” At the chef's nod, Xander smiled again. “Great! I look forward to getting to know you better.” Xander nodded at the chef again as she resumed cooking. He followed the maid, Sofia, out of the kitchen and back into the hall.

“So, Mister Xander, are you going to be moving in today?” Sofia smiled as they walked. This time she kept her lips closed over her teeth. Xander appreciated the gesture.

“Uh, yeah. That's my plan. I've, uh, got my stuff in the car.” Xander shrugged. He followed it up with a sotto voce, “Otherwise I'd be stuck with my parents for another day, and no one wants that.” The maid smiled at him again, showing that she heard him despite not wanting to broadcast his thought.

“Do not worry, Mister Xander. We will get you all set up. It is your house now, after all. “ She waved toward the sun room at the end of the hall. “Miss Faith, she is in there with Rosa, the nurse. I'm going to go and open your bedroom. Get some air flowing. Make sure it is not dusty.”

Xander entered a large room that seemed to take up the entire back end of the house. Large bay windows were evenly spaced, letting in enough natural light that the overheads weren't needed. Most of the room was taken up by the medical equipment. Faith, in her hospital bed, and surrounded by the various monitors and pumps and readouts and ventilators, was at center stage.

Xander couldn't get over how fragile she looked. How helpless she looked. He knew he should hate her for what she did to Buffy – to all of them, really – but he couldn't. Whatever possessing force that had turned Faith away from them, whatever had captured the girl's soul and led her to Mayor Wilkins was gone. It just wasn't there anymore. All that was here, now, was the sad, broken shell of a girl.

He also couldn't help but feel protective of her. It wasn't in his nature to attack the helpless. Long nights of soul-searching had convinced Xander that Angelus had been right, the time the vampire had sneeringly labeled Xander 'Buffy's White Knight'. It was true. If someone needed help, he'd help them. There was no alternative. The nurse, Rosa – who looked enough like Sofia the maid that the two of them might as well be twins – smiled and ducked her head once at him.

“Hello, Mister Xander, sir. We were expecting you. The lawyers called and said you would be here today. And here you are! I am Rosa. I am a registered nurse, and will be taking care of Miss Faith, under Doctor Welner's supervision. Doctor Welner, he's at Sunnydale General.” The nurse looked around, obviously trying to find something to talk about. Xander ended the awkward silence by approaching Faith's bed. He gently brushed a stray hair from her forehead, and his fingertip lingered on the skin next to her ear. “Do you have any questions?

“How.” He coughed once. “How is she?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Her pulse and blood pressure are good. She's lost some weight, but that is to be expected. I fed her about two hours ago. Her next feeding isn't for a while yet. And I, um... I changed her recently as well before giving her a bath.”

“Changed her?”

“She's – well – for her bodily functions, Mister Xander.”

“Oh. Right.”

The nurse stared at him for a silent moment. “Mister Xander, you should know this. It’s important you know this. Miss Faith, she is a sweet girl. She was a sweet girl before. Didn't deserve what happened to her. The Alcalde, he was not a righteous man. A very good boss, but not a good man. He twisted her up bad. With everything that happened to her, it wasn't her fault. Not really. She – she had problems.”

Xander nodded. He pulled the stool next to Faith's bed and held her hand. “I know.”

**XxxxxxX**

And time passed, as time always does.

**XxxxxxX**

Xander sat next to Faith's bed. The only light in the room was the lamp over his shoulder and the softer lights hanging over Faith's bed. The room was never completely in darkness, but there was enough shadow present so that, if he pretended at least, it looked like Faith was just sleeping. There was a book in his hands, and he was reading from it out loud.

_"So, in no time, my uncles and aunts, every one, all waved me good-bye. They jumped into my cars and drove away under the smoke-smuggered stars. Now all that was left 'neath the bad-smelling sky was my big empty factory, the Lorax, and I. The Lorax said nothing. Just gave me a glance – just gave me a very sad, sad backward glance as he lifted himself by the seat of his pants. And I'll never forget the grim look on his face when he heisted himself and took leave of this place, through a hole in the smog, without leaving a trace. And all that the Lorax left here in this mess was a small pile of rocks, with one word..."_

"Unless."

Xander shot to his feet and whirled, shocked by the intrusive voice that had come out of nowhere. His heart beat like a snare drum. Sofia had taken Valentina home hours ago; the maid had promised that they'd be back extra-early in the morning to help him with the party he was throwing for Willow the next day, and Rosa had just left. Other than the still-comatose Faith, he was supposed to be alone in the house.

Buffy was standing in the doorway, watching him. It took a moment for Xander's body to come down out of fight-or-flight mode. He didn't quite leave it completely. The last time Xander spoke to Buffy or Willow, there had been a blow-up over Faith. Willow, rather selfishly, thought Xander should dump her in a nursing home and then basically return to life as normal – barring a few changes, like getting out from under his parents. Buffy had been less adamant about it, but wasn't against the idea of Xander just abandoning his charge in a hospital. It was when Willow started making comments about how Faith was a whore and who really knew who fathered the kid on her that Xander lost it.

For the first time in his entire life, he'd yelled at Willow. Screamed at her, even. And tossed her out of his house and out of his life. He was still trying to figure out how to fix things without backing down from his decisions to care for Faith and his child. Buffy had followed Willow out. That had been four months ago. Since then, he'd seen Buffy and Willow here and there around town occasionally. Usually at this or that fast food joint, or at a book store, or out at the mall. But he'd never had the guts to approach them and talk. He'd been too scared of the possible fall-out if the fight continued. He'd kept a tenuous contact with Giles and Mrs. Summers, but even that had been strained.

“Hey, Buffster.” Xander forced himself to calm down. It was just Buffy. He could trust Buffy. He kept telling himself that as he watched her. He could trust Buffy.

"Sorry about that, Xan. The, uh, the nurse let me in. Said you be back here." Buffy said as she slowly approached. She was moving gingerly, as if she was afraid to scare him off. “I think the nurse is a Raspik demon. Is she a Raspik demon?”

Xander laughed, once. It was a nervous laugh. “Yeah. So's the maid and the cook. They're good people. They take good care of us.”

“I, uh, I've heard that. Raspik's I mean. Good, um, people.” Buffy nodded. She glanced at the book where Xander had dropped it, then quickly leaned over and picked it up and handed it back to him. "Doctor Seuss. One of his best, too. I memorized The Lorax when I was eight or nine. Love this book."

To his eyes, Buffy looked tired. She seemed to carry a burden about her that wasn't there the last time they'd spoken. Her eyes traveled to the other Slayer; Faith had the gaunt look all coma patients had, as well as the washed out look of someone who normally wore a lot of makeup but now was going without. Add in the visible baby bump, and... "She hardly looks like herself anymore. How is she doing?"

"According to Doctor Welner, she's doing fine other than, you know, being in a coma." He gestured with the book and smiled, sheepishly. "He tells me there's no way she can actually hear me, but I don't care. I like reading to her. And, uh, since I'm also reading to the baby, I figure why not start his education out right with the classics."

“Sounds great.” Buffy seemed to hesitate before speaking again. “Xander, me and Willow, we were talking, and a question sort of came up. I don't want you to take this the wrong way. We think it’s great what you're doing here, but what – “ She paused, and Xander could tell she was worrying over her next words. “What are your plans for when if wakes up?”

“ _When_ she wakes up,” Xander began, putting all emphasis on the word, “I'll be there to help her get back on her feet. Introduce her to her son, if she wakes up after he's born. Try and make her see that she's not going to be handed over to the cops or the Feds or the Watchers.” He looked down at Faith. He wasn't conscious of it, but his face changed when he did. He didn't see Buffy's look of surprise at his new expression, either. “I want her to know – know, Buffy, deep in her bones – that there's someone there sticking up for her. Someone who, you know, cares about her. Cares about what happens to her.”

Buffy just nodded, still staring at his face. After a moment of not hearing an audible reply, Xander looked up at her. Buffy smiled. “I understand, and that's great. But what if...” It was clear that she didn't want to continue.

“What if she's psycho-Faith?”

Buffy just nodded.

Xander sighed. “Well, I'm going to burn that bridge when I get to it. I don't really know yet. Who knows. I'm just going to try and be there for her and for our son.”

Buffy's forehead creased. “Do you love her?”

 

“No. I dunno. Maybe.” Xander rubbed at the back of his head. “I'm not, like, in love with her, if that's what you're asking. But yeah, maybe I love her. I care about her, that's the important part. She's having my kid, and despite everything she said, there _was_ a connection. So...” He ended it with a shrug.

They were quiet again.

“And, uh, 'he?' You said he?” Buffy broke the silence.

“That's what the doctor tells me.” Xander wasn't looking at Buffy, but rather was staring at Faith. Buffy began to think that her friend had forgotten she was there.

“Got any names picked out?”

“Not yet. I've been – not really. Maybe a couple. I, um, I've got a list of possibilities somewhere around here. Just, you know, playing with it.”

“Right.” Buffy crossed to him and took him into her arms for a deep, long hug. The hug between people who were siblings in all but name. “I think he could do worse than be Alex Jr.”

“Yeah, well, I dunno. Seems sort of – I always thought that people who named their kid after themselves were sort of self-centered or conceited or something.” Xander shrugged. “What do you think of Jared?”

“It’s a good name. A strong name. Good name for a boy.” Buffy pulled the other stool over and sat, and Xander returned to his own seat. “And you could definitely do worse. I mean, imagine naming him Rupert or Wesley.”

Xander chuckled. “Nah. Those are way to tea-and-crumpets for me.”

“Well, you could always go Irish, and name him Patrick.” Buffy grinned. “Faith's Irish, right? I think she said once that she was 'Southie from Bah-stun.'” Xander smiled when Buffy nailed Faith's accent perfectly. “It'd only be natural to give him a good traditional Bahstun Irish name.”

“Patrick might work, too.”

Everything fell quiet again. They both kept glancing around the room, trying to not talk about the elephant in the room. “Other than doing some Seuss therapy, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know. Um. Taking care of the house. I'm having a back deck put in with a pool. Going to have a chair swing put in it and a ramp, just in case she needs to relearn how to walk. It'll be good therapy for her when she – um, yeah.” Xander shrugged. “I, uh, talked to some investment people. Get the money working for me, you know. And, uh, I've had them set up some funds. You know, um, college money. For the baby. And for --” he broke off, swinging a hand in Faith's general direction.

“You're really sure she's going to wake up some day.” Buffy's smile was tight, and her eyes were shiny. It took Xander a moment to realize she had tears in her eyes.

“Yeah.” He shrugged again. “I sort of have to.”

They were quiet again. Both watched Faith's ventilator keep her breathing. Up and down, in and out. The rest of the machinery made quiet beeps. Regular beeps.

“I miss – we, Willow and me – we miss you, Xander.” Buffy wiped at the tears on her face. “It has been so hard without you there. I don't know if I can do it anymore, and Willow is on the verge of melting down.”

“What happened?” Xander asked, shocked.

“There was this vampire who – Sunday, her name was Sunday, and she nearly beat me. She made me feel like the lowest of the low. Like I wasn't good enough for anything. And she nearly beat me.” Buffy took a long shuddering breath. “I don't know how – I was an inch away from being staked with my own stake when Giles rushed in at the last minute and saved me.”

“But you got her. You're here and she's not, right?” Xander moved next to Buffy and drew her into a hug. He pulled the Slayer onto his lap. At first, she resisted, but not hard enough to stop him. She allowed him to cuddle her to him.

“Yeah. But that's not all. It turned out that my roommate, Cathy, was evil. She was so, so sweet and wholesome with her Celine Dion music and her anal-retentive personal hygiene habits and her labeling everything in the snack fridge. She complained about me. Got me tossed out of the freshman dorm. I had to move back in with Mom.”

“Wow. That's harsh.”

“Yeah. Harsh is a good word for it, Xander.” Xander felt Buffy take a long, deep breath. “And then there was...” Buffy trailed off. And then the gates opened and the sobbing started. By the time Buffy caught her breath again, Xander was rubbing her back, gently.

“What was that about?”

“Huh?” Buffy looked up at him. He smiled down at her as she wiped her face off on his shirt. That was perfectly fine, as it was already soaked through from her crying anyway. “What?”

“What else is wrong? One vampire – even one vampire that almost beat you. That's not enough to have you feeling like this. What else happened?”

Buffy's face closed down. “I can't – I don't want. Xander, no, it’s nothing. I just trusted the wrong person, that's all. They made me trust them, then turned out to be untrustworthy. I should have been smarter than I was and paid for it.”

“Okay.” Xander rubbed her back. “What happened?”

“Xander, I – “

“How'd they let you down?”

Buffy was quiet for a long time. “Xander, is there something wrong with me?”

“What? No, of course not! Why would you think that?”

“There was – there was this guy. Named Parker. I let him – he – there was...” She stopped clearly not able to finish. Xander understood immediately.

“You slept with him?”

“Yeah.” Buffy smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “At first, he was all nice, and then when he never called back I thought something was up, but I found him with another girl. And he was saying the same things to her as he said to me.” Buffy sobbed again. “I feel so dirty.”

“Oh, Buffy, no.” Xander shook his head and hugged her to him harder. “Let me guess. He acted like Mr. Sensitive and was all reluctant and pretended to be everything you wanted.” He felt Buffy nod. “And then he let you think you were seducing him, right?” Another nod. “And you're wondering what you did wrong for him to treat you that way.” A third nod. Xander sighed. He'd watched Devon Parish work that same con on Aura White, one of Cordelia's brood of loyal followers.

“Is this what happens? Am I cursed? Is the guy going to go all evil every time I sleep with someone?”

Xander couldn't help it. He laughed. He stopped it as quickly as he could, but he laughed nevertheless.

“It’s not funny, Xander.” That just caused him to laugh again. “It's not!”

“You're absolutely right.” Xander said, forcing his face into some resemblance of solemnity. “The situation isn't funny at all. I'm not laughing at you, Buffy. I just thought what you said was – you know what? Never mind.” He gave her another hug. “I promise you, it won't always be like that. You've just had a run of really bad luck, is all.”

She shook her head a little and cuddled closer into his chest. “I don't know, Xan. Bad luck just happens. This – I made this happen.”

“Yeah, but that was your choice. I mean, if it’s what you want, and if you're safe about it, why shouldn't you sleep with whoever you want to sleep with, right?” He smiled down at her again and gave her a light kiss on the forehead. A sudden thought had him concerned. “It was safe, right, Buff?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, it was safe. That's not it.”

“Okay, so what is it?”

“It’s just – “ Buffy took a deep breath and sighed. “I thought, I mean, I thought I was breaking away, you know? From Angel. There I was, not being hung up about Angel anymore. Finding someone new. But I was stupid.”

“No, you were inexperienced. There's a difference.” Xander sighed. “Next time you'll know better. That's all you can do. It’s okay to make mistakes, Buffy. Just learn from them.”

“Parker said that.” Buffy closed her eyes and leaned into him.

“What?” Xander asked. She didn't answer. “Buffy? What did Parker say?”

“He said it was okay to make mistakes.” Buffy sighed again. “It was kind of sweet.”

“It was kind of manipulative, is what it was.” Xander shook his head. “He said it because he's shallow and only after one thing.” Buffy's breathing was growing more and more regular and shallow, and he realized she was falling asleep on him. He wondered for a moment whether he should wake her.

“Xander, why didn't he want me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “You'd tell me if there was something repulsive about me, right? You'd tell me?”

“Yeah, Buffy, I'd tell you.” Very carefully, he stood. Just as carefully, he adjusted her weight in his arms. She was asleep, and asleep he could see just how exhausted she must have been. He gave Faith a lingering glance, then looked back down at Buffy.

“Let's get you settled, Buff.” He shuffled her in his arms long enough to turn off the reading light, then carried her toward one of the guest rooms.

**XxxxxxX**

_Faith sat, watching the television. It was some Masterpiece Theater thing. A story of some knight in a slightly tarnished but nevertheless still-shiny suit of armor coming to the rescue of a fair maiden. It had the entire ladies in waiting, riding on horseback, Holy Grail thing going for it. Earlier it had been a cartoon. Faith thought she recognized it as one of the Doctor Seuss stories. Or maybe Peanuts. It had a little orange guy in it, anyway. Talking about dancing trees and singing fish and dancing bears._

_Idly, Faith stroked the fur of the cat on her lap. It had jumped up onto her as soon as she sat down and settled into her lap, like it belonged there. She didn't have the heart to move it, and it was purring, so her petting it was a foregone conclusion._

_“Have you thought of a name for it?” Buffy shoved a mouthful of popcorn into her mouth, her eyes never leaving the television screen._

_“What?” Had Buffy just been sitting there next to her all along? Faith couldn't tell._

_“Your passenger there.” Buffy's eyes cut over to the cat, then back to the screen. “Have you named him yet?”_

_“Not yet.” Faith continued to pet the cat, who was pressing into her hand with every stroke. “But now that you mention it, what do you think of Jared?”_

_“It’s a good name. A strong name. Good name for a boy.” Buffy nodded. “And you could definitely do worse. I mean, imagine naming him Rupert or Wesley.”_

_“Nah. Those are way to tea-and-crumpets for me.”_

_“Well, you could always go Irish, and name him Patrick.” Buffy grinned. “You're Irish, right? A Southie from Bah-stun? It'd only be natural to give him a good traditional Bahstun Irish name.” Faith rolled her eyes as Buffy just smirked. She gave Buffy a friendly shove on the shoulder, then returned her attention to the television. The cat got up from Faith's lap and moved to Buffy's. Faith watched Buffy stroke the cat, doing it just as unconsciously and automatically as she had._

_“This is a really good movie. It’s a good thing when the good guys are good guys.” Buffy grabbed another mouthful of popcorn._

_Faith nodded. “He really is a White Knight, isn't he?”_

_“He's got a big heart.” Buffy held the bowl out to Faith._

_“Big enough for all three of us.” Faith reached up and stroked Buffy's hair. “I've been worrying about that, you know.”_

_“Worrying about what?” ___

___“Sometimes we miss the things that were in front of us all time.” Faith sighed. She looked around the apartment. “We were always at sixes and sevens with each other. And I'm afraid there's no White Knight for me.” Faith turned to Buffy and looked deep into the blonde girl's eyes. “Will you come back and see about me?”_ _ _

___“Don't worry, Faith. Think of all the things we were working out.” Buffy leaned over, careful to not spill the popcorn, nor drop the cat, and kissed Faith gently on the lips. “We won't forget about you.”_ _ _

___“I have a feeling – in the end, I mean.” Faith turned to Buffy and smiled. For the first time, Faith addressed the other girl by name. “Buffy?”_ _ _

___“Yeah, Faith?”_ _ _

___“Did you know that Xander keeps an aluminum baseball bat under the front seat of his car?“___

 _ _ **XxxxxxX**__

 _ _Buffy woke abruptly. She was unsure where she was at first. The room was clean but bare. It was painted a uniform beige. The only color was the mint green comforter she had been tucked under. Buffy lifted the comforter's edge. She was still dressed, excepting her shoes and socks. The room faced south, and the morning sun wasn't direct, but the window still did a good job at lighting up the room. And the bed was sinfully comfortable. She sat up and immediately spotted her pumps next to the bed. She could see her ankle-socks stuffed into the heels for easy access._ _

__“Xander's house. Oh yeah.” Buffy nodded to herself. The previous evening's discussion came to her in a rush. She hadn't been sure why she came to Mayor Wilkins – _no, Xander's_ – house, but it seemed a good idea at the time. And now she was sure of it. She felt surprisingly lighter than she had last night. It felt good, finally getting it off her chest, and the things he'd told her, they just felt right._ _

__She pulled her socks on and picked up her shoes. A quick, sloppy bed-making, and she was quietly out the door. Buffy looked around, and finally figured out which way was the front door. No one else seemed to be around._ _

__This proved to be untrue. Buffy stepped out onto the upper landing of the staircase, only to be spotted by the maid, who was dusting in the room below. The maid gave her a nervous smile and bowed, slightly._ _

__“Miss Buffy? I am Sofia. I am Mister Xander's housekeeper. He said you stayed for the night.” She smiled wider, but it was a closed-mouthed smile. She was still clearly nervous. “Mister Xander, he had some business to take care of, but asked if you could stay until he got back. He told Valentina to make you whatever you want for breakfast. Will you follow me, please?”_ _

__“Sure! Breakfast sounds good.” She came down the stairs, nodding to the maid. “It’s nice to meet you. I guess you know who I am.”_ _

__“Oh yes. You are El Elegido. Everyone in my family know who you are.” The maid smiled again. “We no hurt no one, and are good people.”_ _

__“I'm sure. Xander wouldn't let you work you otherwise. Don't worry. I'm not slaying anybody today.” Sofia seemed to relax audibly at that._ _

__She followed the maid into the kitchen. The chef was busy at a cutting board, slicing potatoes thin. When she saw Buffy, the chef smiled, then scraped the potatoes into a large bowl of water. “Good morning, Miss Summers. I'm a big fan. My name's Valentina.” She washed her hands, then grabbed a kitchen towel. “So, how's an omelet sound?”_ _

__“Sounds perfect. Can you do a western?”_ _

__“Pshaw! Can I do a western.” Buffy returned the woman's grin as she went to work. “Watch and learn, grasshopper!”_ _

__The maid came back into the room, carrying a folded sheet of paper. “Miss Buffy, Mister Xander, he left this for you.”_ _

__Buffy took the note and unfolded it._ _

___Buffy,_ _ _

___Feel free to make yourself at home. There's a PlayStation in the den, along with a video player and a bunch of movies. Or you can watch TV or do anything really. I'll be back soon. I want to talk to you some more when I get back, so don't leave yet. We didn't cover everything last night, and I think there are still some things we need to discuss. Hey, if you want you can always read Faith the next book. I was thinking of starting on Charlotte's Web. I'll be back with some ice cream therapy and a couple of spoons._ _ _

___I'll be back before you miss me._ _ _

__It wasn't signed._ _

__“Well, he says he'll be back soon. Had some business to take care of or something.” Buffy shrugged. “Where does Xander keep Faith's books? He asked me to start reading her the new one.”_ _

__“I'll show you after you eat your breakfast.” Sofia smiled in return. The maid nodded toward the cook, who had just turned to place the omelet in front of her. It was huge and beautiful, and the smell of it made Buffy's mouth water.__

 _ _XxxxxxX__

 _ _Xander smiled as he entered Kresge Hall, still amazed at how easy it had been. A quick application of just enough Benjamin Franklins printed on rectangular pieces of green paper, and the clerk at UC Sunnydale's housing office was all too eager to tell Xander just where Parker Abrams was dorming. Another small stack of Benjamins at the campus ID office got him a picture of the guy._ _

__Xander took the stairs two at a time, and it took him just a couple of minutes to reach the third floor. “Okay, 309. 309. Where are you 309?” He scanned the door numbers as he walked, ignoring anyone walking past him who wasn't his target. “305, 307 – ah, here we are. Parker Abrams' room. We have a winner. And what has he won, Johnny?” Xander stepped back to let another kid walk past. The kid looked at Xander, and at the aluminum baseball bat Xander was carrying, but apparently decided Xander wasn't any of his business._ _

__Xander brought his fist up. He pounded on the door loud enough to wake the drowsiest drunken college student. After a couple of minutes, the door cracked open, revealing a tall, dark-haired young man who'd obviously been shaken from sleep. “What the fuck do you want, dude?”_ _

__It wasn't Parker. Must be the roommate. “I need to talk to Parker, like yesterday.” Xander pushed past the roommate. “And you need to take a walk.”_ _

__“What? What the fuck do you –?”_ _

__Xander raised the bat, letting the business end of it come to rest against the kid's chest. “I said take a walk.” Xander didn't even look as the kid un-assed the room in a hurry. All he had eyes for was Parker Abrams. The young man in question was still asleep, half-wrapped around a girl who was clearly naked under the covers._ _

__“Get up!” Xander called at the top of his lungs. “Out of bed, Abrams! Now!”_ _

__The girl shot up from sleep so quickly she nearly fell out of bed. Xander caught one of her arms and helped her stand. While Parker stared at him owlishly, Xander grabbed the girl's clothes and handed them to her, then pushed her into the room's closet as gently as he could._ _

__“Get dressed, then get out.” Parker started forward to object, but stopped when Xander planted the bat in his gut and pushed Parker back onto the bed. “Don't feel bad. He was never going to call you, now that you gave him what he was after.” Xander's eyes never left Parker's. “He's slick like that. Aren't you, _Parker?”__ _

__“What do you want? Who are you?”_ _

__“We're just going to talk about how you treat women. Especially how you treated one of my best friends. A nice private talk. Just you, me, and my bat.” Xander smiled at him. It wasn't a pleasant smile. “You listening, Parker?”__

 _ _ **XxxxxxX**__

**Author's Note:**

> Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Warner Brothers. L.A. Law is the property of 20th Century Fox Television.
> 
>  
> 
> This story just sort of sprung on me in the middle of the night. I was intending to work on the next chapter of my longer fic, _Origin Story_ , but this came out of my head instead. I do intend to continue it, but this is a back-burner story
> 
>  
> 
> I don't do songfics. At least not the usual songfics that are text mixed with song lyrics (I hate those). But I do stories inspired by songs. This was inspired by the song from which it takes its title, “At This Moment”, by Billy Vera and the Beaters. If you're unfamiliar, find it and listen to it. You absolutely will not regret doing so.


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